


Birds Eye View

by HappyJuicyfruit



Series: Featherwind's Series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Brain Damage, Derek Hale Tries, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Español | Spanish, Good Peter Hale, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Pack Feels, Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Spanish Translation, Torture, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, Trauma, Worried Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyJuicyfruit/pseuds/HappyJuicyfruit
Summary: Derek’s eyes widened, and his first instinct was to look towards Scott, but he already knew what he was searching for wouldn’t be there. Hadn’t been there this whole time.Stiles was missing.Derek growled and turned to Scott, “what did you do?”Scott, pale and wide eyed, looked between Derek and Chris, who were both looking at him for answers. “I- Deaton said he wouldn’t notice!”Chris sighed, “wouldn’t notice what?”Derek growled in agreement.“Deaton gave me pills, full of mountain ash, to replace Gerard’s cancer pills. That way after Derek bit him, Gerard would die.”Chris crossed his arms, “you didn’t think a cancer patient, or the doctor he checks in with regularly, would notice that he wasn’t taking his pills?”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Featherwind's Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702243
Comments: 133
Kudos: 1917
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovely readers! Happy 2020! Let's start with some super angst, shall we?
> 
> This is for Bad Things Happen Bingo: cold-blooded torture. So, there is torture in this. Be warned if that is not your thing.  
> Also, this is not very Scott friendly, I recommend you don't read this if you really love Scott. 
> 
> Also! Thanks to the lovely Angelsil, you can now [read the Spanish version here!](https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/234326896-ojos-de-pajaro-traduccion)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings: Stiles gets tortured by hunters. There is talk of blood, broken limbs, tasers, hitting Stiles with a bat... it's bad. Take care of yourselves my friends, do not read if torture is too hard for you!

  
Derek stood over Jackson’s body, panting. Peter stood beside him, both of them waiting for the shift to finish. 

For Jackson to become a full werewolf. 

“Is he… is he dead?” Lydia whispered. Derek finally looked up at her, finally looked around the room. Lydia stood closest, still holding the key that she’d used to get Jackson to pause his attack on them, to turn part way back human enough for them to finish the process. Scott and Isaac stood a few feet behind her, both of them clearly not knowing what to do. Derek didn’t blame them, it was a weird situation. 

“No,” Peter answered, his head tilting. “He’s changing, but he should wake up soon as a full werewolf. He’ll be healthy, and hopefully he won’t have any kanima left in him because I don’t much feel like having that fight again.” 

Derek snorted and shook his head. Peter, back from the dead, as snarky as ever. 

“How did you know to come here?” Derek asked Lydia. She looked at him like he was an idiot. 

“I heard you all talking about Jackson in the boys locker room,” she said, crossing her arms. “So I’ve been following Scott.” 

“I hope I don’t have to tell you not to tell anyone about this,” Derek said. 

Lydia raised a brow, before pointedly glaring at Peter. “I’ve been called insane enough recently, thanks.” 

Peter winced, “right, and can I just take this time to apologize for putting you through… that?” 

Lydia rolled her eyes. 

All the wolves tensed when they heard a car pull up outside of the warehouse. 

“Shit,” Derek looked down at Jackson, “do you think we can move him?” 

“Did I not just say we need to do whatever we can to prevent anymore kanima bullshit?” Peter said.

Derek sighed, “Peter, he’s not a kanima anymore, we can’t leave him here if-” 

“It’s Chris,” Scott said, both he and Isaac looking towards the main entrance. 

“And Erica and Boyd!” Isaac said, before heading towards the betas. Derek moved forward as well, without thinking, but forced himself to stop after a few steps. His betas had left him, they didn’t want Derek as their Alpha.

He could give them space. That’s what they wanted. 

Which is why he was so surprised when a moment later, both of the betas broke into a run and only stopped when they were beside him, hunched over and holding hands. 

“Um,” Derek looked over at Isaac, but Isaac looked as confused as he did. “Are you two okay?” 

Erica shook her head, “no.” 

Hesitantly, Derek put a hand on her shoulder, “what’s wrong, was it-” Derek glanced at Chris, who stood at the entrance of the warehouse watching them. “Did the hunters-” 

“Chris let us go. Gerard…” Boyd shook his head, “but Chris found us and let us go.” 

Derek growled, “did they hurt you?”

They both shrugged. Derek took that to mean yes. He didn’t know what to do, so he squeezed Erica’s shoulder, and gave Boyd a look that he hoped conveyed what he was thinking. 

_You’re safe now_ , he wanted to say _. I won’t let them hurt you again._ But he didn’t know how to say it, because he couldn’t make a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. 

“Can we stay with you?” Erica asked in a whisper. 

“Of course,” Derek said. He hadn’t been the one to tell them to leave, they’d made that decision on their own… but maybe, but maybe now… 

“If that’s enough time for the wolves to calm down, we need to talk,” Chris cut in, finally stepping into the room. 

Peter stepped forward, crossing his arms and putting himself between Chris and the betas. The hunter and the injured pack mates. The move made something settle in Derek’s chest, it was something that his uncle would have done before the fire. Something he hadn’t seen him do in a long time. 

Derek could only hope that this new resurrected version of Peter was better than the last. 

“What do you want?” Derek asked, also moving himself in front of Erica and Boyd. Isaac had moved over enough that he was flanking their side, encasing Boyd and Erica in a protective circle. Scott hadn’t moved. He stood closest to Chris, his eyebrows furrowed. 

Lydia crouched over Jackson, who still lay motionless on the floor behind them. 

“I went down to my basement tonight, because my lights kept flickering. I thought something was wrong with my electrical box, so you can imagine my surprise when I found these two strung up to my basement ceiling, electric cables holding them in place.” 

Derek growled, and Chris held up his hands. Derek noticed for the first time that he was holding a piece of paper. 

“I let them go, but Boyd had this stapled to his chest. It’s addressed to Scott-” 

“Me?” Scott frowned, “why me?” 

“Why indeed,” Peter mused, “and why are you telling _us_ about it?” 

“Because Erica thought Derek would want to know.” Chris said. 

Derek glanced behind him, and Erica nodded. Okay, he didn’t know what this was about, but he was willing to hear Chris out if Erica wanted him to. 

“Read it.” 

Chris nodded, and held up the letter: “You really think I wouldn’t notice, Scott? I always knew I couldn’t trust a wolf. Maybe this will make you learn some respect for your elders, and teach you not to doubt the ability of a hunter....” 

Chris trailed off, and Derek looked between Chris and Scott. Scott’s face was pinched, Chris looked upset. 

Derek had no idea what the fuck was going on, “is that it?” 

“No,” Chris cleared his throat: “You won’t be able to find him, but I might be generous enough to leave the body for you in your precious preserve. It’s a shame, since the boy would have made a good soldier for the right cause. He should have known better than to run with wolves.”

Derek’s eyes widened, and his first instinct was to look towards Scott, but he already knew what he was searching for wouldn’t be there. Hadn’t been there this whole time. 

Stiles was missing. 

Derek growled and turned to Scott, “what did you do?” 

Scott, pale and wide eyed, looked between Derek and Chris, who were both looking at him for answers. “I- Deaton said he wouldn’t notice!” 

Chris sighed, “wouldn’t notice _what_?” 

Derek growled in agreement. 

“Deaton gave me pills, full of mountain ash, to replace Gerard’s cancer pills. That way after Derek bit him, Gerard would die.” 

Chris crossed his arms, “you didn’t think a cancer patient, or the doctor he checks in with regularly, would notice that he wasn’t taking his pills?” 

It was a good point, but not the thing Derek was focusing on. 

“What do you mean ‘after I bit him’?” Derek asked in disgust. 

“Well, Gerard was planning on asking you for the bite,” Scott said, like it was obvious. 

Derek growled, “I would never give Gerard the bite, I’m not an idiot.” 

Scott shifted, and Peter hummed next to him. “I see, you were planning on forcing Derek to bite him if he didn’t agree willingly.” 

“What?” Derek turned back to Scott, feeling hurt, but mostly feeling like a fool. He had thought he could trust Scott and Stiles, he had thought that after everything, they would at least be _allies_. 

He’d thought wrong. They were no better than the Argents. 

“Look, Deaton said this was the easiest way and I guess I didn’t really think about how you would feel about it…” Scott shifted awkwardly, but gestured back to Chris, “he was threatening my mom, and now he’s taken Stiles! What else was I supposed to do?” 

“Literally anything else, Scott,” Lydia said from her place on the floor. 

Scott’s face twisted, but Derek didn’t care anymore. He was over his teenage melodrama. “If this was the plan that you and Stiles made with Deaton, you can fix it yourself. I’m done with you.” 

“Actually,” Erica grabbed his arm, holding him there, “from what Gerard said, it didn’t sound like Stiles was part of it. He’s only doing this to Stiles to punish Scott.” 

“We wouldn’t be alive if Gerard hadn’t gone off after him,” Boyd added, “it’s like he forgot about us the moment he started targeting him.” 

“Stiles would have come up with a better plan than that,” Lydia chimed in behind them.

Great. So not only had Stiles been taken, he didn’t even know why. Scott hadn’t thought to share his idiotic plan with the one who actually had braincells. 

This was a fucking mess. 

“How long has it been?” Derek asked Chris. 

Scott, to his surprise, was the one who answered, “Stiles went missing after the game. Around 8:30.” 

Derek growled, “are you serious? Why are you even here, if your pack member went missing hours ago?” 

“What? You’re the one who asked for my help! You didn’t care he was missing either!” 

Derek rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fucking _know_ , Scott, you didn’t tell me!” 

“Well, you were here! Even though Erica and Boyd had been taken too!” 

“They hadn’t gone missing, I knew they had chosen to leave! I would have gone after them if they’d just disappeared!” 

Erica squeezed his arm gently at that, and Derek turned to her, ignoring Scott’s continued stammering in the background. “You want to go after Stiles, don’t you?” 

“I feel like we owe him that,” Erica said. 

Derek turned to Boyd, who simply shrugged. Derek took that to mean yes. Isaac hesitated, when Derek turned to him, so Derek didn’t wait for his answer. Isaac could make his own decisions. 

“Do you mind staying with Jackson?” He asked Peter, “get him back to the den when he’s stable?” 

Peter huffed, “if by the den you mean that lovely empty loft you have? Then yes, I’m sure I’ll manage. Though do let me know if you need help finding him, Stiles was always a favorite of mine.” 

That… sounded weird. Derek didn’t want to deal with that for now. He turned away from them all and walked out of the warehouse. 

He had a dumbass kid to find. 

“Derek, where are you going?” Scott followed him out, along with the rest of the betas. Erica and Boyd instantly climbed into Derek’s Camaro without another word. 

Derek was forced to stop when Scott stepped in his way. “You can’t just leave, Stiles needs help!”

“The last place Gerard was seen was at the Argent house, and then the lacrosse field at the school. I’m going to see if we can find a scent, a starting point. Why, what’s your plan?” 

“Um-” Scott looked confused, which was a normal look for him, actually, but Derek didn’t have time for this. He shoved Scott out of the way, and climbed into his car. 

“Do whatever you want, Scott. I’m going to save Stiles.” 

And with that, he started his car and pulled away. 

\-- 

Derek went to the school field first. It was the last place Stiles had been seen, and if there was going to be a scent trail to follow it would be there… 

But there was nothing. Nothing but the smell of sweaty teenage boys, and the panicked tang of the audience who had thought they watched Jackson die. 

It was useless. He could only hope Argent’s house had more. 

The three of them climbed back into the car, and Derek squeezed the steering wheel nervously. The last time he’d spoken to Erica and Boyd, they had… not been happy. They’d accused him of lying to them, which… was possibly something he had done. He didn’t really know. He’d been so desperate to build a pack. A wall of protection. A… new family. He hadn’t thought of how they would feel, being thrown into the middle of a Supernatural war. 

He’d thought they would be happier. He’d thought they would like it better than the pain the human world had given them. 

Clearly, he’d thought wrong. 

He cleared his throat, “are you two okay?” 

“We’re fine,” Erica said beside him, “all healed up.” 

Derek nodded, “if you had to heal, you must be hungry.” 

Derek watched Boyd shrug in the rearview mirror. Erica didn’t say anything. 

“I - ” Derek glared at the road ahead. “I’m sorry for how things ended. Between us.” 

Jesus Christ, that sounded like some sort of teenage break up. He was so fucking bad at this. 

It got their attention though. He could feel their eyes on him, but Derek couldn’t make himself turn to look. 

“We’re sorry for leaving,” Erica said, a few tense minutes later. “I thought it was for the best but when we were hanging in that basement… all I wanted was to be with my pack again. With my Alpha.” 

“No matter how shitty of an Alpha he may be,” Boyd said from the back. 

Derek let out a breath. 

He was _really_ fucking bad at this. 

“I’m sorry,” he started with, because really, that’s what was important, right? That he was sorry. He was sorry for everything. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t…” he sighed, “I was a shit Alpha. I _am_ a shit Alpha. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing.” 

Boyd snorted, and when Derek risked a look, Erica was grinning out the window. 

“If you’re willing though… I’d like to figure this out. Together, this time.” 

“Together,” Boyd said, like a promise. 

“Together,” Erica repeated, “after we find Stiles.” 

Derek couldn’t help but smile as he nodded. 

He had his pack again. 

\--

Derek knew as soon as he stepped out of the car that they wouldn’t find a trail here either. No scent, no signs… they were aimless. Standing in the Argent’s driveway trying to think of what to do next. 

“Do you think there’s anything inside?” Erica asked. 

Derek shook his head, “maybe, but I’m not about to break into a hunters house. We can do this the old fashion way, spread out and check around the town. The preserve. It’s not too big, we could find him by dawn.” 

“The note said we won’t be able to find him.” Boyd said. 

“Yeah, they’re hunters. They probably have ways to hide their… victims,” Erica winced at the word. 

Derek didn’t like it anymore than she did. Stiles wasn’t a victim. Stiles shouldn’t even be involved in this mess. 

He turned when he heard the sound of a car parking, and raised his brows when he saw Isaac and Lydia stepping out of Chris Argent’s car with him. Scott pulled up soon after on his bike. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t find anything at the school,” Chris said. Derek shook his head. 

“Deaton was useless as well,” Lydia said, walking up and stopping beside Derek, like they were a team in this together. Maybe they were. Maybe Stiles would make them allies after all. “He doesn’t even know how to do a locator spell. Who knows magic but doesn’t know how to do a locator spell?” She spoke like she thought he was pathetic. Derek was starting to see why Stiles liked her so much. 

“Did you check inside?” Chris asked. 

“No. I doubt he left anything to follow.” 

Chris nodded, looking grim. “You’re right, if I know my father, he wouldn’t leave anything in my house to find him…” 

They all stood in silence, thinking. Derek watched as Isaac inched closer and closer to the betas, until he was shoulder to shoulder with Boyd. His three betas, together again. He didn’t want them to get hurt in this. 

He needed to do better. Be better. Stop being an idiot and… and learn from his mistakes. 

Derek sighed, he knew what he had to do. Even if his instincts were screaming at him not to do it. 

“We need to tell Stiles’ father.” 

Everyone looked at him in surprise, but Scott’s quickly shifted to anger. 

“No, Stiles doesn’t want his dad to know about this.” 

Derek growled, “if I had been honest about what had been going on with Erica and Boyd from the beginning, maybe the police would have found them before Gerard tortured them in a basement, instead of thinking they were some teenage romance runaways!” 

Erica scoffed, looking offended, “that’s what everyone thought?” 

“No, Derek, you don’t understand. Stiles would rather his dad not know at all, okay? Even if it means he gets hurt, or it might take some time to find him… he wouldn’t want his dad to know!” 

“Might take _some_ _time_?” Derek shook his head, “Scott, we have no scent to follow. No leads. Nothing. Unless Chris has some idea for where Gerard might have taken him?” Derek looked to Chris, who solemnly shook his head. “That’s what I thought. No one here knows Gerard well enough to find him. We don’t have resources. The one person who was actually good at making plans like this is the one who’s been taken! And on top of that, Gerard clearly wants him dead. To teach _you_ a lesson. I’m going to the Sheriff, whether you like it or not, because unlike you, I actually care about my allies. I’m not letting Stiles die for your mistakes.” 

Derek moved away, heading for his car, and didn’t flinch when he saw Scott start coming for him. 

He did pause when Erica and Boyd stepped in between them though. His brows raised his surprise when Lydia stepped up and joined them. 

“He’s right, Scott, the Sheriff deserves to know the truth about his son,” Lydia said. “And speaking from experience, keeping this a secret doesn’t help anyone.” 

Scott doesn’t say anything. He shakes his head like they’re the ones making a mistake, and heads to his bike. 

Derek ignored him. 

“Let’s go,” he said, nodding towards his car. Erica, Boyd and Lydia all moved to follow him in. Lydia didn’t even look for permission to join them, she just crawled into the backseat with Boyd. Derek felt his lips twitch by her audacity. 

He was really starting to see why Stiles liked her. 

Before he got into the car himself, he turned to Isaac, who was standing awkwardly in the driveway by Chris. 

“We’ll either be at Stiles house, or the station, if you want to join… I have my cell on me if you need anything.” 

Isaac looked surprised, but Derek waited until he nodded before he got back into the car. 

He was trying. He was really going to try this time. 

He hoped it would work. 

\-- 

Stiles woke up in darkness. Like, really dark darkness. This wasn’t night time this was… 

This was a fucking _bag_ over his head. 

A bit of flailing, and some definite bruising later, and he knew for sure that there was a bag over his head, handcuffs around his wrists, and he was in a tight place. A small space that felt like he was moving. 

Like the trunk of a car. Or the bed of a truck. 

He was being fucking _kidnapped_. 

“Okay,” Stiles took a steadying breath. The bag on his head made that move a lot less calming than he wanted it to be, but it would have to do. “Don’t panic. Dad talked about this. Just- stay calm. Stay ready and… make it as hard for them as possible. I can do that. I can definitely do that.” 

His hands were tied behind his back, but he still had some wiggle room. He tried to shimmy the bag off his head, but it didn’t budge. It was fucking tied on. 

These guys weren’t amateurs. That was a scary thought on top of a scary thought. 

No time like the present to ignore that thought. 

He shifted around more, hoping there was something here. Anything. A fucking twig, even. He could pick a handcuff with a twig, if it was sharp enough and he had enough time. He’d done it before. 

There wasn’t. The space was empty, and all Stiles accomplished was getting himself twisted into an awkward position. He shifted again, straightening himself out, and that’s when he felt it- 

A hole in the side of the trunk. 

What had Dad used to say? If he gets taken, kick out of the backlights. A cop will pull them over. He’ll be saved. 

Stiles sucked in a breath, and kicked the same spot as hard as he could. Then kicked it again, and again, and again. He kicked until he was panting, and then he kicked some more. 

The son of a bitch didn’t even budge. 

“Fucking hell, what is this thing made out of?” Stiles dropped his head back, wincing when the movement stung. 

He couldn’t do anything right now. He wouldn’t be able to fight his kidnappers later if he’d tired himself out fighting a car. 

Stiles licked his lips, nervous, but closed his eyes against the darkness. It didn’t make him feel better. 

He had been at the game. His dad had been watching. Everyone- everyone would know he was missing. And if they knew where and when, they would be able to find him. 

And he had werewolves on his side. Scott would definitely find him. If his dad didn’t first. 

Yeah. Stiles took another calming breath, or, as much as he could with a bag over his head. 

They would find him. It would be fine. 

\-- 

Derek started at the station, but the Sheriff wasn’t there. 

“He’s probably not allowed on the case,” Lydia said, leaning forward from the back, “he’s too close. If he’s anything like Stiles though, he’s working on it from home.”

So to the Stilinski house they went. 

Derek pulled up in front of the house, for the first time not trying to hide his arrival. He could hear the Sheriff’s heartbeat from here, and nodded at the others to get out. Walking up the driveway, Derek clenched his fists when he realized the Sheriff’s heartbeat was coming from upstairs. Derek was the only one with hearing good enough to know what the man was doing up there. 

Sheriff Stilinski was crying in his son’s room. Because his kid, his only family left, was missing and no one knew why. 

Derek didn’t pause as he stepped up to the front door and knocked. He listened as the Sheriff dropped something, and his hurried steps moved from the second floor to down the stairs. 

Derek almost wished Stiles were here, only to see his face at the sight of Derek, knocking on his door to talk to his father, the man who had arrested him not long ago. 

But he had to do this. For Stiles sake. 

“Derek?” The Sheriff asked, and then looked even more confused when he saw the three people behind him, his eyebrows scrunching up at the sight of Lydia in particular. “What are you all…” 

“We need to talk, Sheriff,” Derek said, “it’s about Stiles.”

\--

Stiles tried to stay calm. He tried to keep his breath even, and his mind focused, but… the longer the drive was, the more his panic grew. 

They weren’t in fucking Kansas anymore, that was for sure. 

He doubted they had been driving in circles this whole time, so that meant they were getting farther and farther away from Beacon Hills… where no one would think to look for him. 

Where no one would even know how to look for him. 

Fucking hell, he didn’t even know how had _taken_ him. How was his dad supposed to know? Stiles shook that thought away. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe this way, only the werewolves would be involved, and his dad would stay safe at home. 

Even if Stiles really… really selfishly wanted his dad here with him right now. 

Stiles sucked in a breath when the car finally pulled to a stop. A stop longer than a red light, and a stop for sure when car doors started to open and close. 

He clenched his fists, ready to fight, but nothing happened. 

“Hey!” Stiles shouted, kicking his feet out again, “hey! Let me out! Let me out of here!” 

He kicked, and shouted, but no one came. He heard the car doors shut once more, and they were off again. 

Stiles dropped his head with a groan. 

Fuck. 

\-- 

The Sheriff, unlike his son, took the news that supernatural creatures existed very skeptically, and almost kicked then out of his house for wasting his time until Derek shifted right there in front of him. 

Then the sheriff pointed a gun in his face, until Lydia took over and got the situation back under control. 

Now the five of them sat around the table, the Sheriff’s head in his hands. 

“And Scott’s one too?” He asked, for the third time. 

“Yes,” Lydia said, for the third time. 

Derek shifted in his seat, they didn’t really _have_ the time for this right now. 

Luckily, the sheriff seemed to agree. 

“And this man, this ‘hunter’, he took my son? To get revenge on Scott, for- for trying to kill him?” Sheriff Stilinski lifted his head out of his hands, his brow furrowed, “Scott planned that? Alone? 

Sheriff Stilinski sounded doubtful, and Derek appreciated that. 

“He said Deaton helped him make the plan, and not to tell anyone about I guess, because even Stiles didn’t know,” Erica said. 

The Sheriff rubbed his forehead, “Deaton the vet? What does he-? You know what, now's not the time.” He stood up and made his way to the front door. 

“Where are you going?” Lydia asked, standing up as well. They all followed her lead, and followed the Sheriff out of the house as he spoke. 

“As far as I’m concerned, this was an anonymous tip that someone saw a deranged man shove my son into a car.” Sheriff Stilinski said, making his way to the police cruiser sitting in the driveway. “I’m not sure if they’ll believe me if I tell them it was the principal of the high school, but this at least gives me more to work with. I can investigate Gerard Argent while everyone else is searching for the car. I’m too close to this anyway, they wouldn’t want me out in the field right now. Do you know what kind of car he drives? Just to speed this up?” He turned to Derek, who floundered. 

“Uh-”

“We can find out,” Lydia cut in smoothly. Derek nodded. 

They could find out. It was a start. 

\-- 

Stiles didn’t know how long it had been. He was disoriented, and was only now realizing that if he had been unconscious from a blow to his head, he probably also had a concussion. 

Not a good sign. 

He tried to remember what his dad had taught him. To yell and scream when he could, to not make it easy on his kidnappers. He was a cops kid, he knew what to do. 

But yelling hadn’t worked. And they could be miles away by now, in the middle of nowhere. 

His dad hadn’t told him what to do, if the yelling didn’t work. 

The car finally pulled to a stop, and the car doors opened again. A door opened near him this time, and Stiles felt cool air hit the skin of his wrists. 

He sucked in a breath, and hoped the yelling worked this time. 

\-- 

Derek stopped at a McDonalds on the way to the Argent house. His betas had only just been saved, and needed fuel if they were going to keep helping. And Lydia, to the best of his knowledge, had been following Scott, and then following them, the whole night. 

They all needed the food. 

When the four of them finally made it to the Argent house, Derek was feeling better than he had the last time they were here, despite the fact that they were no closer to finding Stiles. He had hope now that the Sheriff was part of this. 

They would find him. 

Chris Argent, on the other hand, looked like shit when he opened the door.

“I wasn’t part of this,” he said, already moving to close the door. Derek shot a hand out to stop him. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t know anything,” Lydia said. 

Chris sighed, he motioned them inside. 

Erica and Boyd looked around suspiciously before they walked through the door. 

“I wasn’t part of that either…” Chris said, his face worn, “I wouldn’t kidnap children, no matter their species.” 

“Sorry if we don't believe you,” Erica said. Boyd glared. 

Chris looked away, “I’m sorry for what my family did to you, but I can promise, I had no part in it. Gerard had more control over Beacon Hills… over my home, than I thought he did. I don’t even know where Allison is right now.” 

Derek put a hand on Erica’s shoulder, trying to support her while also trying to tell her they needed to be here. They needed Chris’s insight if they wanted to figure out where Stiles was. 

“Do you know what kind of car Gerard would have been driving?” He asked. 

“Look, you all need to understand, my father doesn’t trust me with this type of thing. I don’t know-”

“Then get everything you do know,” Lydia snapped, “and meet us back here to go over it. We don’t have time for this pity party, Argent, we have a boy to find.” 

Chris looked at her, obviously surprised, but Derek growled. “I would listen to her, if I were you.” 

“Right, okay, I’ll um- look in the basement. You can come with me, if you want.” 

Erica and Boyd stiffened, but Derek reassured them they could stay up here. 

Derek and Lydia followed Chris down the stairs into the basement. Derek’s chest clenched when the scent of fear and pain grew with each step down. His betas had been down here, and he hadn’t even known. Hadn’t even tried to save them. 

Now Stiles was probably in the same situation and Derek couldn’t even _find_ him. 

He was failing as an Alpha, but he was going to try harder. Do better. 

He had to - if they wanted Stiles to survive this. 

\-- 

Screaming and kicking did _not_ work, it turned out. All it got him was another hit to the head - something Stiles was going to try to avoid from now on, because now he was dizzy and his mouth tasted like blood. 

By the time he was able to focus again, he was already being tied to a chair. 

Thanks for all the great advice, Pops. It did nothing. 

The bag was finally pulled off, and Stiles blinked sluggishly in the light. Men dressed in all black surrounded him. 

Gerard stood at the far side, his face twisted in a smile. Allison stood beside him, her face pale and shocked. 

Hunters. They were apparently going after humans now. 

Great. 

\-- 

Lydia managed to pull a few things out of the basement that might help them. Derek stood beside her as she looked through the pages Gerard hard left in his desk, glaring around the room his betas had been tortured in. 

Chris took stock of everything that was missing. 

“A lot of guns and wolfsbane, which isn’t surprising.” Chris said, writing the list down for them. “Some rope. A sedative that we usually use on injured men, but,” he winced, “could also be used to make someone docile…” 

“So Gerard is probably drugging Stiles as well,” Lydia said, her arms full of papers, and her face full of disgust. 

No one said anything, and Derek shook his head, “are you ready to leave?” he asked Lydia. She nodded, and Derek waited until she was safely on the stairs before he followed her. 

They didn’t need to stay in the hunters den any longer than necessary. 

\-- 

“Grandpa, you told me you were getting Derek,” Allison whispered. She sounded horrified, and Stiles wanted to laugh. 

“Wow, Allison, I knew you were off the deep end but I didn’t know you’d-”

Someone taped his mouth shut. Stiles glared at him, and then turned his glare forward. 

Allison glared back, “Derek killed my mother.” 

Stiles gestured to himself, as much as he could with his hands taped to the chair. Despite that, he thought he made a pretty good point. Allison’s lack of response made him think she agreed. 

“Stiles is just here to lure Derek in,” Gerard said, placing a hand on Allison’s shoulder, “wolves are so easy to manipulate, he’ll come for the bitch.”

Stiles grunted, offended, but Allison just nodded, like that made perfect sense. Which, you know, _rude_. 

“You should go outside, Allison, patrol the woods with the others.” Gerard said, “Derek will show up soon enough, and I know you want to be the one to finish the job. If you want the glory, you need to be out in the action. Not in here, waiting with the bait.”

Allison took all of 5 seconds to think about that, before she nodded and moved to leave. Stiles, panicking, yelled after her. He didn’t want to be left alone with her crazy Grandfather, even if she was off the deep end. 

She sighed, turning back briefly,“you’ll be fine. You’re just here as bait, nothing’s going to happen to you.” 

Yeah, _right_. He tried to shout again, but Allison was already walking out the door. 

He didn’t know why he thought she would do anything different. 

As soon as the door shut behind her, Gerard stepped closer. He grabbed Stiles’ face, his bony fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re exactly who I meant to take, and you know that, don’t you Stiles? I’ve been told you’re the clever one. If only your friend Scott had listened to you, maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. This should teach Scott his lesson though. He will learn not to double-cross a hunter after this. And not to leave the weakest member of his pack unprotected.” 

Stiles swallowed. He didn’t like the sound of this. He also had no idea what Gerard was talking about. Scott hadn’t done anything to Gerard. 

“Ah, so you really didn’t know. I can see it in your eyes, you have no idea what I’m talking about, well,” Gerard leaned away again, pushing Stiles face to the side as he let go. “Let me tell you all about how Scott was supposed to get me the bite, but _instead_ he decided to mess with my medication.” Gerard pulled out a bottle and shook around its contents. “I noticed pretty quickly so don’t worry, I’m still on the right medication. Scotts mountain ash pills are all ready for you to take.” 

Stiles glared at him, wishing he could snap back, but he couldn’t with the tape over his mouth. 

Gerard smiled, “Adam.”

A man moved forward, and stabbed into Stiles neck. Stiles flinched away, but the needle had already been emptied into him. 

A moment later, a hand grabbed his mouth, ripped the tape off and Gerard dropped a few pills in. They held his mouth and nose closed until he swallowed them. 

By the time they finally let go, Stiles had to gasp for breath. Everything feeling dizzy, slanted. 

What the _fuck_ had been in that needle. 

“Now Stiles, focus on me just a bit longer,” Gerard patted his cheek, Stiles tried to turn away. He grabbed his jaw instead. 

“This is what you get for running with wolves. This is what you get for being a human traitor. My men get bored when there’s nothing to hunt, and I’ve told them they can practice their skills on you. That’s all you’re good for now. That dose should keep you quiet, and those pills will keep you human. Even if your little wolves show up, they won’t be able to bite you. You should thank me. You may die here, but at least I’m saving your humanity. 

“Fuck you,” Stiles snarled at him. Or tried to. It came out slurred, but he thought the message was clear. 

Gerard shoved his face away, and then he was gone. Walking out of the room like Stiles was nothing. 

Stiles tried to get himself focused again. Tried to look around the room, which looked… wooden. He tried to- 

A man grabbed his hand. He was holding pliers. Stiles squirmed, attempting to pull away but his wrists were tied to the chair. 

“Fuck off, man- I keep my body the way I like it, everything is perfectly in its place I don’t want you to mess with-” Stiles didnt even know where he was going with that, but he cut himself off with a shout of pain. 

The man smiled, _smiled_ , as he pulled Stiles middle fingernail off slowly. Painfully. 

“Shouting already?” The man asked. “This is just the beginning.” 

\-- 

After they left the Argent house, Derek decided to drop Boyd and Erica off at home. 

It was late, they were both drained from being injured by hunters and strapped to a ceiling for who knows how long. Their parents had been worried about them when they went missing, and Derek… 

If Derek was really going to commit to not making the same mistakes, this was one of them. He couldn’t ignore the fast that his betas had had a life before him. They had parents, loved ones. He couldn’t isolate them like he had before. 

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice. 

“You need to rest,” he said to Erica, who wouldn’t get out of the car. Boyd had only taken a bit of prompting, but Erica was refusing to leave. “You need to sleep, and you need to reconnect with your family. They were worried about you.” Derek sighed when Erica only looked slightly swayed by that. “If you want to help tomorrow, you still can, but only after you’ve talked to your parents. I’ll text you if anything happens before then.” 

“Text me if you find a location, you’re not saving him without me.”

“Fine.” 

That finally got Erica out of the car. Lydia climbed into the front seat as he watched her get pulled into her house by her sobbing mother. 

Yeah, he’d made the right decision. 

“Do you want to go home?” Derek asked her, pushing his car into drive. 

Lydia shook her head, “both my parents are off at work conferences, no one’s waiting for me there. And our house cleaner will have looked after Prada before she went home, so I’m good. Prada's my dog,” she added when she saw Derek’s confused look. “Besides, Stiles… I know he wouldn’t rest, if it were me. So neither will I.” 

“It’s not a competition,” Derek tried to say it gently, but it came out gruff, like it always did. Luckily, Lydia didn’t take it that way. 

“It’s always a competition between us,” Lydia looked out the window, her face twisted in regret, “a competition for grades. A competition for who can out stubborn who- Stiles, for always trying to get my attention, or me, for always ignoring him. I won that one, he didn’t think I even knew his name before all this.” 

“Did you?” 

“Of course I did, it was always right under mine for class GPA.” 

Derek shook his head. Teenagers. 

They pulled into the station parking lot, and Lydia gathered all their pages together. “I’m going to win this one too. Stiles may have spent an entire weekend waiting for me in the hospital, but I’m not going home until he’s found.” 

Derek nodded. He felt the same way.

\-- 

Lydia spread everything they found in the basement on the sheriff’s desk. Now that it was all out like this, Derek realized the information she had managed to gather was depressingly small. 

“We should probably start with this,” she said, picking one of the pages, “a list of cars Gerard had rented out for him and his men.” 

Sheriff Stilinski took it, his eyes roaming down the page, “they all look pretty similar, black SUV’s. A common car, but hopefully it helps. I’ll send out an APB. Thank you, Lydia.” He left the room, the sheet folded and in his pocket. Derek wondered what he was going to say to get that APB. 

He supposed it didn’t matter, as long as they found the car Stiles was in. 

Lydia looked down at the pages again after the sheriff left the room, “the rest of this I’ll look over again. This was just the stuff I thought looked promising.”

Derek frowned, but looked over the pages with her. She was right… nothing here really helped them narrow it down. 

“This one mentions a cabin,” Lydia said, holding a torn piece of paper with messy handwriting on it, “and how it would need supplies if they went there. I’m guessing it’s remote? In a forest, maybe?” 

Derek shrugged, “not ours, if it is. The preserve only has the Hale house in it.”

Lydia huffed, “that will be hard to narrow down then, northern California has plenty of forests to hide in… if they even stay in California….” 

Derek growled at the thought. They’d lost so much time already, Stiles could be two States over by now. He could be at the border to Mexico. 

And if they took him that far… 

Derek shook the thought away. It didn’t matter how far they took him, Derek should hunt them down, and kill them himself. No matter how long it took. 

\-- 

The sheriff came back an hour later, a stack of DVD’s in his hand. Lydia told him about her theory that Stiles was being kept in a cabin somewhere, and the man nodded grimly at that. 

It was all they’d managed to get out of everything from the Argent basement. 

The sheriff sat down at his desk, his face tight. He lay the DVD’s out between them. 

“These are the recordings from any road facing business near an exit from Beacon Hills,” he lifted them up one by one, “cafe on 8th, gas station near the 99, bike shop near the preserve… you get the idea. I had a few of my deputies start collecting these a while ago. Now that we know the make and model of the car,” the sheriff shrugged, “we don’t have much else to go on right now.” 

The sheriff used his computer, Lydia, somehow, pulled an entire laptop out of her bag, and Derek used a station laptop that was old and lagged quite a bit. He could only fast forward at half the speed the two others were, which made him feel kind of useless, but it was something. 

They were doing something. 

\--

It was nearing dawn by the time they found anything. Lydia, her eyes wide, waved them over to her screen. A black SUV getting gas at the place near highway 99. The man wore all black and a baseball cap. He never looked up at the cameras. 

Two other men got out of the car, wearing the same thing, and came back with three bags full of supplies. They all got into the car and drove away, never seeing any of their faces. 

“This has to be them,” Lydia said, “they obviously know what they’re doing.” 

The Sheriff nodded, “Stiles was probably in the back of that car. It moved every once in a while. I told him-” his voice cracked, but he cleared his throat and kept going. “I told him if he’s ever taken, to yell and kick. Do whatever he could to get found. To make it harder for them.” 

Derek’s chest clenched, his eyes still on the screen. “It was 2 AM, no one was around to hear him.” 

Sheriff Stilinski closed his eyes for a moment, pushing his hand over his mouth. Derek could smell his sadness, his agony over this, but the man was strong. It only took him a moment to get himself together again. 

He checked his watch, “this has them leaving town about three hours ago. I’m going to go get a map, see how far they could have gotten in that time. I can get the APB State wide, but that’s all I can do before we’re getting anyone else involved in this.” 

The sheriff stood up and left Lydia and Derek, staring down at the computer, wishing they could do more.

\-- 

Stiles didn’t have fingernails on his left hand anymore. He thought about that in a disjointed sort of way, as the man who had just been torturing him helped him drink a bottle of water. 

“We don’t want you to die too quickly,” the man said, sounding very matter of fact about it. “The fun just started.” 

Stiles spat the last mouthful in his face. He got a punch in the head for that - one that sent a burst of pain right into his eye. 

He really needed to stop getting hit in the head. Priority number 2, protect the head. Number 1 was, obviously, find a way to get the fuck out of here. 

As soon as the walls stopped spinning. 

The second man, not-Adam, crouched down in front of him, a cigarette dangling between his fingers like he thought he was some cool looking Bond villain. “How long do you think it will take to get that spirit out of you, hmm? A week? A month?” 

“How long will it take for you to go fuck yourself?” Not his best come back, and it came out a bit slurred, but it still got his point across. 

The man put his cigarette out on Stiles arm. 

\-- 

They had a large map spread out on a standing bulletin board, a radius for how far the men could have gone circled out. 

It got bigger every hour. 

They also had pins in every forest that might have a remote cabin in them. The sheriff was calling the towns closest to every pin and asking if they’ve seen the black SUV with the license plate from the gas station. Thus far, nothing, all of them saying they would keep an eye out.

Stiles has officially been missing for 12 hours. Derek didn’t want to say it, but he knew there was a chance that he could be dead by now. 

There was a chance that by tonight, they would be finding his body in the preserve, just like they’d found Laura. 

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to picture it, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

When Erica and Boyd showed up, bringing lunch in for them, Derek grabbed a sandwich and asked them to come to the gas station with him. To get out and… see if there was anything left behind. A scent, or a… a clue left by Stiles. 

Just… something. 

Anything. 

\-- 

Stiles had no fingernails on his left hand. 

He had two broken fingers on his right. 

He had a burn mark on his right forearm. 

He had a swollen left eye. 

He had a concussion, judging by the headache and dizziness. Though that could be from whatever they injected him with. It was probably from both. 

They were giving him a break, because _they_ wanted to rest a bit. Because torturing him was just such a hard day job. Or… night job. He didn’t know what time it was. 

He didn’t know where the rescue team was either. It had been hours, hadn’t it? Surely… one of them should have come by now. His dad, Scott… Derek, even. Had no one noticed he was missing? 

Stiles flopped his head back, wracking his brain for something, anything, to get him out of here. The tape had been replaced with rope, which was too tight for him to get out of. From what he could tell, he was in the middle of nowhere, so they would have him tied back in the chair as soon as he got out of it. There was no way he could fight these guys, at the best of times, let alone in the condition he was in. And he wouldn’t be able to outrun them either. 

And… they weren’t asking him anything. There was no interrogation, or.. Attempt to get him on their side. They just wanted to hurt him. To hurt Scott by hurting him. 

They didn’t even let him talk most of the time, his mouth even right now was covered in tape. 

If sarcasm was his only defense, how the fuck was he supposed to get out of here? 

\-- 

The gas station told them one important thing - these were definitely hunters. Even hours later, the stench of wolfsbane is strong. Derek and his betas followed the scent of it for nearly two miles before it trailed off, but at least they knew what direction to look in now. 

It was fucking _something_. 

When they got back to the station, Derek could tell there were two more people in the sheriff’s office before they went in. He paused at the door when he saw it was Isaac and Scott. They were both standing at the side of the sheriff’s desk, looking uncomfortable. 

Derek didn’t blame them. He would be uncomfortable too, if he was at the receiving end of a shouting Sheriff Stilinski. 

“Do you know why I always said I trusted you, over Stiles? Do you understand why I thought you were the trustworthy one, Scott?” Sheriff Stilinski snarled. It sounded like this was the end of a very long fight. Derek glanced around to see Lydia looking half amused, half bored at the sight of this. 

Derek wondered how long this had been going on. 

“Because I- I’m not the one that lies all the time?” Scott finally answered, sounding unsure. 

“It’s because you _told_ me things. You told me when Stiles broke his arm when he was eleven and didn’t want me to know about it. You told me when Stiles was being bullied and didn’t want me to worry about it. But now, when Stiles is in the most danger, you didn’t tell me? Why? What were you thinking?”

“I-” Scott looked pale, “I- he didn’t want you involved. He didn’t want you to worry.” 

“He _never_ wants to worry me! I thought you _got_ that, kid! I’m his only family left, he never wants to put anything on me. And I don’t want to put anything on him. But I’m his father, and I have to look after him, so _yes_! I’m mad that you let him stew in this without telling me! I’m mad that my kid is out there, going through god knows what, because you-” the sheriff cut himself off, running a hand over his mouth. “You’re just a kid, you’re both just kids. You should have told me about this.” 

The man turned away, and Scott clearly didn’t know what to do with this. Derek stepped forward. 

“Are you here to help?” 

“I-” Scott turned to him, hesitant, “Allison’s missing too.” 

Derek lifted a brow. Erica laughed, it was not a happy sound. Sheriff Stilinski didn’t turn around, and that was enough for Derek. 

“Get out.” He said, crossing his arms. 

“I mean - what if they’re together? What if.. Maybe she’ll help us.” Scott said. 

Boyd rolled his eyes, “I doubt that.” Erica nodded in agreement. 

“Scott, if you aren’t here to help. Then leave.” Derek gestured to the door. “Everyone here is focused on rescuing Stiles. That’s it.” 

Scott looked between Derek and the sheriff before his shoulders sagged and he left the room. Isaac didn’t move to follow him, and Scott didn’t wait for him. 

Erica, Boyd and Isaac share an awkward look, before shifting and all looking somewhere else. 

Derek sighed, “why don’t the three of you go get us some more dinner?” He handed them a few twenties, and shook his head when they all jumped at the task. 

Teenagers. 

The sheriff excused himself to the bathroom as soon as they left, but Derek could smell the scent of his tears already. He gave the man his privacy, moving to sit by Lydia. 

“What was that?”

Lydia flipped a hand, her lips pursed, “Scott came in here on his high horse, telling Sheriff Stilinski not to trust you, but it didn’t get very far before the sheriff was asking Scott what he would rather he do instead to get his son back, and Scott didn’t have an answer for that… it snowballed from there.” 

Derek looked away, he was kind of sorry he asked. 

It took a few minutes, but the sheriff came back put together like always. Derek came up to put his hand on his shoulder, though, because they all needed support in this. 

“We’re going to find him. We know its hunters, I could smell them at the gas station. I know they went this way,” Derek picked up a marker and drew an arrow on the map, pointing in the direction the hunters had been going. “We’ll find him.” 

“I fucking hope so.” 

\-- 

Gerard was back, looking smug as ever. Stiles didn’t know how much time had passed, but sunlight streamed in when Gerard opened and closed the door, so… more time than he thought. 

“How’s our friend?” He asked, all smarmy and gross. 

“Peachy.” Stiles replied. 

Gerard laughed. 

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles asked, because really, what else did he have to lose. “What do you want from me?” 

Gerard shrugged, “I told you, I want Scott to learn a lesson. He tried to have me killed.” 

“Message sent, dude, I think he’ll get the point,” Stiles pointedly looked down at himself. The bloody parts of him made him feel sick. “You can let me go now.” 

“No,” Gerard said, “Scott can either come here to find your body, or he’ll find your body abandoned in the preserve. Only that will teach him what dealing with a hunter truly means.” 

Stiles felt cold dread drip down his back. He thought this was like, pay back, he didn’t think they would- they would _actually_ … 

“But- I’m human.” Gerard shrugged, like that made no difference to him. “You can’t- my dad’s the sheriff, he’s going to be looking for me! You can’t just-” 

“Yes, it’s a shame your father will be losing his only son, but he would thank me if he knew what you had become. Fraternizing with werewolves. It’s disgusting.” 

Gerard was heading to the door again, Stiles strained against the ropes. “Wait, please, my dad doesn’t have anyone else-” 

“Daman, would you?” Gerard spoke to someone behind him, like Stiles begging meant nothing. 

Something hit the back of his shoulder, and then Stiles was seizing, his entire body rigid and blood soaked his mouth. 

He only distantly aware of the light coming in and leaving again as Gerard stepped out the door. 

\-- 

Their map was dotted with possibilities, but no one had seen the car since the gas station at 2 AM. Even with the new information that the hunters had gone north didn’t narrow it down very much. 

It also wasn’t a guarantee that they had stayed heading north. It was possible they started that way, and then turned south somewhere else, just to throw them off. Who the fuck knew at this point, these people were insane. 

The rest of the station were setting up teams to search through the preserve, but they knew Stiles wasn’t in there. They knew Stiles was lost somewhere, in a forest they couldn’t pin down. 

The deputies probably thought the sheriff was in here, losing his mind an hour at a time. Derek was grateful that thus far no one was questioning why he had a Hale and a group of teenagers in with him. Maybe they thought they were his support system, friends of Stiles or something. 

Maybe they thought they were humoring his bizarre theories that Stiles had been kidnapped by an old man and taken a few towns over. 

It didn’t matter, at this point, all that mattered was they left the sheriff and the rest of them alone. 

“Gerard only owns one piece of property in his name, and it’s in Texas.” John said, a hand over his chin. “If there’s a cabin nearby, it’s not his.” 

“Do we know where the cabin is, other than nearby?” Isaac asked nervously. Everyone shook their head. 

The sheriff sighed, and then he stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Derek asked. 

“I’m going where I should have gone hours ago.” The man said, pulling his jacket on. “To talk to Chris Argent, and find out what the hell these hunters really do.” 

\-- 

There was drool and blood on his chest when Stiles woke up… or, regained consciousness. His head was pounding, and his fingers hurt from clenching them after they’d already been… after they’d already… 

Laughter hit his ears and Stiles blinked, frowning. He lifted his head with difficulty but yeah, the two hunters were laughing. 

At him. 

“Aw man, I wish we had recorded that. It was hilarious,” Adam said. 

“I know, I know, he was so-” the man closed his eyes and jerked, pretending to be electrocuted. 

This was… this was _funny_ to them. 

Stiles was going to die. If - if his dad, or one of the wolves… if he didn’t think of something… 

He was going to _die_ here if no one came to rescue him. Because hunters were all fucking psychopaths. 

He sucked in a breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized… why he hadn’t thought… he supposed being human had been a big part. And a teenager. But they’d already gotten away with taking him, taking him and not being caught doing it. Who knew how long it had been? 

Who knew if they would even find his body. 

“Oh jesus, look,” one of them men stepped up and took an exaggerated breath. “He pissed himself!” 

Stiles turned away, his face hot with shame. 

“Don’t worry, little buddy,” the other said, his voice still full of laughter, “we got you.” 

And then something was sliding against the floor, and the sound of a hose turning on was all the warning he got before a blast of cold water hit him in the chest. 

\-- 

Chris Argent sighed at the sight of the sheriff and a pack of wolves at his door, but he let them in without hesitation anyway. Derek only paused a moment when he caught a familiar scent. 

Of course Scott would come here, if he was looking for Allison. 

“I’m sorry he took your kid, Sheriff Stilisnki, but as I’ve been telling Scott, I can’t help you. I don’t know anything.” Chris said, crossing his arms. 

“You don’t know anything, or you don’t want to tell us anything?” Lydia asked, crossing her arms back at him. 

Chris shook his head, “I don’t know anything. Gerard doesn’t trust me, he didn’t tell me anything. Believe me, if I had known, I would have put a stop to this. I don’t hurt kids.” 

“Sorry if we don’t believe you,” the sheriff said, hands in his pockets. He paused in the doorway to the living room, eyeing Scott for a minute before he turned back to the hunter. Derek followed his lead. 

Scott, and the whirlpool of betrayal and hurt that he brought with him, could be dealt with later. They needed to find Stiles. 

They were running out of time...if they hadn’t run out already. 

“Look,” Lydia said, “we know he’s taken Stiles to get back at Scott, and doesn’t plan on keeping him alive very long, so we are really- we don’t have time to waste on your man pain or whatever the fuck this is.” 

Chris took a step back when Lydia pointed a finger at him. 

“Tell us anything you know about- about where he takes wolves after a hunt, or what hunters he would trust with this information, or what cabin is in the area, the one he would have taken Stiles to. _Anything_! Give us anything!” 

“Cabin?” Chris frowned, looked to the sheriff. 

“Lydia found that, and it fits. If they’re-” he cleared his throat, “if they want to leave his body around here, they would need a place close by. It’s not in Beacon Hills, but it’s close. There’s nothing under the Argent name anywhere near here though.” 

“No, but there is - my wife’s family had land a few towns over. It’s even more remote than the preserve here.” 

“Great, give us the address.”

Chris swallowed, “it might take me while -” 

“Just tell us where it is, we’ll find it ourselves,” the sheriff snapped. 

Chris raised his hands, but he did move to grab paper, writing down directions, and the town closest to the cabin. 

“That town’s on the map,” Lydia said, “red pin number 5.” 

Good. They had been heading in the right direction after all. 

“I’ll text you the actual address and how to get there as soon as I find it.” 

“Good, thank you,” the sheriff said, already halfway out the door. They practically ran to get back to the cars. 

Scott followed them out. 

He waited until the sheriff was in the car with Lydia and Isaac, driving off, before he approached Derek’s window. Derek only gave him the chance because he didn’t want the sheriff to have to deal with this. 

“Can I come?” Scott asked. 

Derek glared at him, “do whatever you want. But don’t get in the way.” 

Scott nodded, turning towards his bike. Derek didn’t wait for him before he drove off. 

\-- 

Stiles was dripping wet. They had shoved more pills in his mouth, and injected him again. Stiles didn’t know if that meant it had been 6 hours, or 12, or 24… or if they just did it because they felt like it. 

He was cold and shivering, and not really listening when one of them knelt in front of him, a bat in his hands. 

“We’ve heard some stories about you, you know. The boy who runs with wolves with nothing but his snark and his baseball bat. Funny, you haven’t had that much snark with us.” 

Stiles wanted to tell him to stuff snark up his ass, but his mouth was taped shut, and they all knew it. 

He looked away. That was all he could do. 

He looked back again when the other one started to untie his leg. 

He squirmed, but his muscles were stiff and his mind sluggish. He could tell he was barely making a difference. 

“How are you going to run with wolves now, boy, with a broken leg?” The man asked, raising the bat. 

Stiles really started to fight now. He managed to kick the man enough that he let go, and the bat swung through the air. 

That did nothing but earn him a hit in the face with the butt of the bat. 

And then his leg was being held, and the bat was being swung, and Stiles was screaming and screaming and screaming. 

Until they swung again, and everything went black. 

\-- 

The drive took four hours. Derek spent the whole time hoping there was something left of Stiles to find by the time they get there. 

He had the betas call their families on the way, so everyone knew Erica and Boyd were still safe and around. He also told them to call Peter, to give him an update. He was not all that surprised when Peter said he would meet them there. 

They were nearing the 24 hour mark. That’s when people said it was time to start losing hope, right? If you don’t find them in the first 24 hours, they’re probably dead. 

He really fucking hoped Stiles wasn’t dead. 

\-- 

When Stiles opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling. There was blood dripping into one eye, and the other wouldn’t open at all. 

His body hurt. 

His chest felt like it was on fire. 

He didn’t really want to do this right now. He just wanted to leave this place. He just wanted - he just wants to leave- so he closed his eyes, and let out a breath - 

And he left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part for you guys, hope you like it! 
> 
> Disclaimer, this is mostly about Stiles recovery in a hospital, and I really do not know very much about the medical field. I tried to research but I am sure there are inaccuracies. Let me know if you see any major mistakes :) 
> 
> Warnings: focuses heavily on injury recovery, especially for a traumatic brain injury.

They pull up on the edge of the forest, and Derek knew it was the right place. The scent of wolfsbane wasn’t fresh, but it was here. 

And it would be easy to follow. 

The sheriff had at least three guns on him, and he handed one to Lydia too.

“Remember, only use it if necessary,” he said. So they talked about it on the ride there. Derek was impressed Lydia had convinced the man to give her a gun. He wondered if she had ever fired one before. 

The betas all shifted, their eyes shining in the twilight. 

“Be careful,” he said to all three of them, “if you get hit with a bullet, stay down until someone comes to help you. Moving will make the wolfsbane spread faster.” 

They all nod, looking a mix between anxious and excited. Kids… they were just kids. 

He didn’t want to lose any of them. 

He stepped forward, and touched them all. Gentle, scenting caresses on each arm. Erica and Boyd returned the touch, and Isaac nudged his shoulder once, looking uncertain. Derek appreciated it though. He appreciated that the four of them were here together, even if it was just to save Stiles. 

Scott shifted awkwardly, alone on the sideline. 

“Ready?” Sheriff Stilisnki asked, flicking on his flashlight. 

Derek wasn’t surprised when a car pulled up behind theirs, right as they were about to head in. 

Peter and Jackson stepped out, and the sheriff relaxed a bit when Jackson immediately stepped up beside Lydia and flashed his eyes. Blue, not kanima yellow anymore. 

“Lets go,” the sheriff said

Derek lead the way in. 

\-- 

Stiles was floating. He was flying. He soared out of the cracks in the cabin walls, swayed through the breeze in the night wind, and landed… 

Landed on a bird, sleeping in a nearby tree. 

And then he was squawking, and flapping wings that are not his and- 

_ What are you?  _ A voice that sounded like it was in his head, and beside him, and in him, and… everywhere… asked. 

_ What are you?  _ Stiles asked back

_ I am Featherwind. I am a raven. What are you?  _

_ I’m Stiles. I’m… a human?  _

_ You do not know?  _

_ I… _

_ How are you in me?  _

_ I… I don’t know.  _

_ Well. Get out.  _

_ I don’t know how. I think I might be dead. _ He must be. He’s not in any pain and… he’s in a raven? Was this what reincarnation was like? 

_ You are not dead.  _ The raven fluffed her feathers, Stiles felt her do it like they were his feathers. 

_ They are not yours. These are mine. _

_ Right, okay, I know, um- I think I might have bonded to you? Accidently?  _

_ Bonded? Like a fledgling?  _

_ I guess?  _

_ You do not know a lot, for a human.  _

_ Look I just- can you help me? After I find my pack, I’ll find a way to leave. I promise.  _

_ It is night. It is time to sleep.  _

_ Right, maybe we could sleep later? _

Featherwind squawked, but she opened her wings and started to fly. 

\-- 

The search was taking longer than Derek wanted. The scent of wolfsbane was growing stronger, but they couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t catch the scent of any humans. 

Any scent of Stiles. 

“Are we still going in the right direction?” Sheriff Stilinski asked. 

“As far as we can tell, but they’ve probably put wolfsbane around to keep us off their track, slow us down.” Peter said. “Hunters are annoying like that.” 

Derek ground his teeth. They didn’t have time for this. Stiles could be - 

A bird flew down at them. It flew to the sheriff, who swatted it away, and then it glided over them before flying directly at Derek. 

Derek didn’t swat it away. Derek lifted his arm, and stared at it as it  _ landed _ on him. Derek stared at the bird, and the bird stared back. There was something familiar about it… something in its eyes, that Derek could almost - the bird let out a loud caw, before it jumped off and flew away again, to the left of where they had been going. 

“Stiles,” he whispered, running after the raven. 

\--

“We’re really trusting a bird?” Jackson asked. 

“Shut up and follow the bird,” Lydia said from her perch on Jackon’s back.

The scent was growing stronger, so yeah, they were trusting the raven. Another mile, and Derek started picking up the sound of heartbeats. 

A few more yards and the bird was back, squawking. Derek stopped, only to watch in confusion as the thing flew to the right, directly between two bushes. He ran between the bushes as well when he heard a shout. 

Derek had Allison’s bow snapped in half, and her arm pinned behind her back, before the bird stopped scratching her face and landed on his shoulder. 

“You son of a-” 

Peter had Allison’s other hand clenched in a fist, throwing her knife to the side easily. “Now, now, little hunter. We won’t hurt you if you tell us where the boy is.” 

Allison kicked him in the shin - Derek pinned her to a tree, his claws at her throat. 

“Where. Is. Stiles.” 

“My grandfather said you would come for him. I didn’t want to believe it, but I guess he is your pack  _ bitch _ after all.” Allison spat in his face. 

The raven on his shoulder ruffled its feathers at that, letting out a sound that almost sounded indignant. Derek agreed with it, he didn’t know what Allison was talking about either. 

“Allison!” Scott cried, finally catching up to them. 

Everyone ignored him, including Allison. 

“He’s nearby, she’s clearly on guard waiting for us,” Peter said, looking around. “Just kill her and get it over with, we don’t have time to waste.” 

Derek clenched his fist around her neck, considering it, but Scott shouted a protest. Normally Derek would ignore him, but… 

“I agree with Scott,” the sheriff said, breathing hard but not out of breath as he finally caught up with the wolves. “We don’t want a brainwashed teenager on our conscience.” 

Derek agreed, but he didn’t let her go. “What do we do with her then.” 

“I’ll watch her,” Scott said. 

“You would let her go in a second,” Erica said, “look, she has rope, we’ll tie her to this tree. I’ll stay and make sure she doesn’t get out.”

Derek nodded, he knew Erica didn’t want to face Gerard again. But he didn’t want to leave her alone with Allison either. 

“I’ll stay too,” Lydia said, “and search her for weapons. I won’t be much help in a fight anyway.” 

They all agreed, and made quick work on taking the rope from Allison’s belt, and tying her to the tree. 

The raven flew off again, and Derek followed. It didn’t take long to find the cabin. There were two heartbeats coming from the clearing to their left, and three inside. One of them was shallow, and beating too quickly. 

The raven landed on Derek’s shoulder. Waiting. 

“Alright, Derek, you and I are going in. Boyd and Jackson, head around the back, make sure no ones going to ambush us in there. Peter, Isaac and Scott, watch out backs. We need a clear exit to get Stiles out. We’re in and out - I don’t care what happens to these people as long as we get Stiles out alive, as we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Peter said, a grin on his face. The bird on Derek’s shoulder let out another caw. 

The sheriff looked around, until everyone nodded. 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

\-- 

It was surreal watching the world from a birds eye view. Or, a raven’s eye view, technically. 

_ Ravens are birds _ , Featherwind said. 

That was just true. 

Stiles was really glad that Derek seemed to know that he was like… connected to the raven. Or that the raven somehow knew where Stiles was. He didn’t know what Derek was thinking, but he was going with it. 

Derek and his dad were cautious as they made their way to the door of the building, but they didn’t have to be. The two men were laughing again, he could hear it through the door. 

Stiles didn’t really want to know what they were doing to his body, but he was about to find out. 

His dad opened the door silently, and they paused. The men kept laughing. Derek slipped in first, and Stiles felt him tense under Featherwind’s claws. 

Stiles didn’t blame him. He didn’t like the sight either. 

Stiles body was still tied to the chair, but his legs were spread out now, one twisted in a grotescue angle. There was blood everywhere. His leg, where a bone was jutting out, his hands, his arm, his chest, his head. It was dripping, though he didn’t know if that was because of the amount of blood or because of the hose they’d sprayed him with. 

“I can’t believe he’s not waking up,” one of the men said, laughing as he cut another gash into Stiles now bare chest. That was new. Stiles was glad he didn’t have to feel that. 

Derek growled. Both men jumped. One threw the knife, which Derek easily batted away. One pulled out a gun - but they were both dead before he could shoot. 

Dad didn’t lower his arm, his eyes searching the building. “Are there more of them?” 

“No.” Derek said, he looked impressed as he looked over at Stiles dad, but Stiles wasn’t surprised. His dad was a boss. “Not in here.” 

“Okay,” Dad holstered his gun and moved. He hesitated beside Stiles body, until he gently placed his hand on Stiles arm. The one with the least amount of blood on it. “Jesus, kid, what did they do to you?” 

He moved to check Stiles pulse. “It’s okay,” Derek said, stopping his movement. “I can hear it, it’s weak but its there. He’s breathing like he’s asleep.” 

His dad let out a breath. “Stiles, hey, kid can you hear me?” 

Involuntarily, Stiles let out a caw. He felt Derek tense again, and turn towards him, but Derek didn’t say anything. 

His dad hadn’t noticed, as he shook Stiles gently.” Kiddo, it’s me, it’s dad. We’re getting you out of here.” 

Stiles body didn’t move, his dad’s face crumbled. That finally snapped Derek out of it. He cut the ties on Stiles wrists easily, carefully moving his arms into his lap. 

“He’s okay, sheriff, but we need to get him to a hospital.” 

“We don’t know that,” his dad said, his voice thick, “look at his head, Derek, he might have - oh, buddy, what have they done to you?”

Brain damage, Stiles filled in the blanks. He might have brain damage. Fuck, he might never wake up. What if he was stuck in Featherwind forever? 

_ It is alright, _ Featherwind said.  _ You are much more exciting than anything else that happens around here. You can stay in me.  _

If he could, Stiles would have laughed.  _ Thanks, Feather.  _

“Could you- bite him?” His dad asked, his eyes still on Stiles. “Like Scott? Could that save him?” 

Derek shifted, but Stiles knew the answer to that. He flapped his wings, pointing towards the bottle the men had left to the side. Derek barely looked at them before he knew. 

“I don’t think I can, I think Gerard’s been giving him mountain ash pills. If I bite him, it could kill him.” 

His dad sighed, looking defeated. Stiles wanted to hug him, tell him he was okay. He was right here. 

But he couldn’t.

Derek was lifting his lifeless body now, being extra gentle to make sure Stiles head lay on his shoulder. His dad ran a soothing hand down Stiles back. The only place the men hadn’t reached. 

Stiles wished he could feel that, if nothing else.

Suddenly, Derek crouched, “Sheriff, get down.”

His dad ducked, and a shot hit the chair, where Stiles had been held. It split the back into pieces. 

Fuck, that could have been his dad’s head. 

“You shouldn’t have come here, sheriff,” Gerard said. “Now you’ll have to die with your-” Gerard’s worst ended with a grunt as Peter’s claws scratched across his throat. He fell, dead, a pool of blood seeping out around him. 

“And that, little wolf, is how you properly kill someone,” Peter said, turning to grin at Scott, who stood at the door and looked pale. 

Okay, so Peter was a psycho. Stiles was glad he was on their side now. Was he on their side? 

… Well, he was on their side for now at least.

“Peter, you- you killed-” Scott stammered out. 

“Yes,” Peter said, “and the dear Sheriff here killed these two. Quite a team we make, don’t you think?” 

His dad ignored them both as he stood up, “any others?” 

Derek cocked his head, “Boyd and Jackson took care of the one in the back. I don’t hear anyone else.” 

“Alright, let’s go. We need to get Stiles to the hospital. Don’t wait for me, run as fast as you can.” 

“Got it,” Derek said, and ran. Stiles let go, and let Featherwind take over to fly beside him. 

\-- 

Derek ran as fast as he could. The bird flew in step with him. Derek didn’t know if the bird  _ was _ Stiles, or if Stiles somehow got a familiar or… what. 

But he had Stiles in his arms, his heartbeat getting weaker, his skin cold and clammy to the touch, and that’s what he was focusing on right now. 

He made it to his car, and only thought about what the fuck he should do now afterwards. He gently put Stiles in the back but- he couldn’t, he needed to support him and - 

“I’ll drive,” Jackson said, already rounding to the driver’s seat. Derek didn’t think about it, he threw him his keys. Then Isaac was there, helping Derek get Stiles into the car. They both sat in the back, holding Stiles as gently as they could. The bird huddled on his shoulder, its claws dug into his jacket as it held on.

“Where’s the closest hospital?” Jackson asked, already tearing down the gravel road. 

Derek just shook his head when Isaac looked at him, he didn’t fucking know. Isaac pulled out his phone.

“There’s one twenty minutes away. It looks small but… better than nothing right?” 

Right. 

\-- 

They got to the hospital, and things were immediately taken out of their hands. Derek hadn’t even fully stepped out of the car before a nurse was there, her face hardened at the sight of Stiles, and a stretcher by her side. 

Stiles was wheeled away, out of their reach, before Derek could even think. 

He hoped it wasn’t the last time they saw Stiles alive. 

\-- 

They sat in the waiting room, the bird hidden under Derek’s jacket. The sheriff had arrived not long after them, but it made little difference. There was nothing to find out. Stiles was in surgery. 

They would be told more when they knew more. 

Derek hated waiting. 

As they sat, Peter went over their cover story. Stiles had gone missing, presumed to be kidnapped, and they found him on the side of the road like this. 

It was the safest story to go with. 

“What about the bodies in the cabin?” Derek asked. 

“Dealt with,” Peter said, “there are no signs of us being there either. Nothing to worry about, nephew, I have it covered.” 

Derek just nodded. In truth, he wasn’t all that worried about it. He didn’t care what happened to the hunters bodies, or why Peter was now suddenly taking control of the situation. 

He cared about Stiles. And if he would ever see him again. 

“We’ll tell Stiles to say he doesn’t remember anything, or that he was blindfolded the whole time,” Peter said. “The whole incident will be a mystery unsolved, but with a happy ending where the victim was found.”

The raven nuzzled into his chest… Derek didn’t think Stiles would have a problem going along with the plan. 

No one replied, and they fell back into silence as they waited for news. 

\-- 

Allison was brought back with the rest of them, but she was being kept in the car. They took turns who waited outside with her as Chris made his way over from Beacon Hills to pick her up. 

Derek wasn’t worried she would do anything. Allison looked shaken that Stiles was in the hospital, that her grandfather had tortured him. In his hour of watching her, she kept repeating the same thing over and over again. 

“He said Stiles was bait. He was supposed to be bait.” 

Derek just shook his head. Maybe Gerard would get his wish after all, that people would finally realize not to doubt a hunter. It was just Allison learning the lesson, not Scott. 

Though Scott had been quiet ever since they got here, and Derek was starting to wonder if he’d learned something from this as well. 

When Chris finally showed up, they handed Allison over without comment. Chris tried to ask if Stiles was okay, but Peter bared his teeth at him. 

The Argents left without another word. 

\-- 

Derek had the betas call their parents again, but didn’t mind if they lied about where they were. He understood that they wanted to be here until they heard news about Stiles. 

He wouldn’t make them leave. 

They sat and waited. They curled up in chairs, pillowed by jackets, and they ate the food from vending machines, or the cafeteria down the hall. It had been hours, and they still hadn’t heard anything. 

Derek actually slept at one point. The bird cocooned in his jacket made him feel calm, for some reason. And his betas around him made him feel safe enough for a half hour nap. 

The sheriff didn’t sleep.

\-- 

Stiles was scared. When the doctors finally came into the waiting room to tell them Stiles was stable, they brought with them a long… long, long list of injuries with them. Some of them he had known about, like his fingers, and his broken leg, but others… others he didn’t know. 

The others scared the shit out of him. 

Like, how his organs were bruised, and he had just come out of surgery to stop internal bleeding, because it looked like someone had taken a  _ bat _ to his  _ chest _ . 

One of his lungs had collapsed, another part of the surgery, because of the  _ bat _ to his  _ chest _ . 

His knee was shattered, along with his broken leg. Because of the fucking  _ bat _ . 

He would probably always have a limp, and would need at least a cane. Possibly for the rest of his life. They would know more when he woke up, and started physical therapy. 

That was just the beginning. 

His dad took the news that he was in a medically induced coma better than he did. Stiles had a fractured skull. The doctors explained he had a traumatic brain injury, because of that  _ fucking bat  _ again, and he had gone through another surgery to stop a head bleed. 

His brain had been bleeding. 

His brain was still swollen. 

His brain needed extra time to heal. They wouldn’t know how severe the damage was until after he woke up. 

It was possible his brain might need extra surgery later on, they were going to monitor him throughout the night. 

He may be blind, or visually imparied, when he woke up, depending on the damage done. He may have cognitive or motor issues as well. They would know more when he woke up. 

… they would know for sure about all of his injuries, as soon as he woke up. 

_ If _ he woke up. 

Stiles wanted to leave again. To fly away from here, and never have to think about his pain again. Featherwind burrowed deeper into Derek’s jacket. 

It would do for now. 

\-- 

The three days that they waited for Stiles to be removed from the medically induced coma were the worst. 

They went home. Showered, ate, slept. Peter, of all people, made sure the sheriff went home for at least a few hours. Derek was pretty sure he only convinced him because that way Stiles could have a bag of his own things when he woke up. 

Whatever worked. 

The bird followed Derek wherever he went. At the loft it hopped around the couch, and in the night it slept on the pillow beside Derek’s. Derek knew there was something up with the bird, something to do with Stiles, but he didn’t know what to do about it. So he set out a water dish, and fed it his leftovers, and that was that. 

Maybe Stiles could answer all his questions if he woke up. 

When.  _ When _ he woke up. 

\--

The doctors told them that it wouldn’t be like they saw on TV. After they took Stiles off of the medication keeping him asleep, it could take him hours to wake up. Up to three days. He also wouldn’t wake up entirely at first, but in small bits at a time. 

He probably wouldn’t remember very much at first, if anything. There was no reason to be alarmed. 

So they weren’t worried when Stiles didn’t wake up, the first twelve hours after he was taken off his medication. 

Or the first day. 

Or the second day. 

But when the third day came around, and the doctor started coming in to check on Stiles more frequently, like they were worried, that’s when they started to worry. 

Stiles might not wake up at all. 

\-- 

It was confirmed that Stiles was in a coma, and not a medically induced one, 4 days after they removed him from the sedation. 

An hour after that, after Derek was sure all of his betas, and the sheriff, would be okay… he left. 

He had to take a break from the anxious scent in Stiles hospital room. 

And he had to talk to the raven. 

When he got into his car, the raven unburrowed itself from Derek’s jacket like it always did. It hopped around in the passenger seat during the drive, and it clung to Derek’s shoulder as he got out and made his way up the stairs to his loft. 

It flew to the couch as soon as they got inside, dropping down and making itself comfortable there. It probably thought Derek was going to shower, or sleep. 

It looked surprised when Derek sat down on the coffee table across from it. 

Derek took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was a werewolf, and has done much stranger things than what he was about to do. 

“Do you know what’s wrong with Stiles?” 

They stared at each other, him and the raven, until very slowly and purposefully, the raven nodded its head. 

Derek let out a breath. Fuck. He’d been right. 

“Do you… are you his familiar?” 

The raven shook its head. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He may not be a genius like Stiles and Lydia, but he could do this. 

“Are you a magical being of some kind? Can you help Stiles?” 

Another head shake. Derek leaned forward on his knees, “are you Stiles?” 

The bird hopped once, and then nodded its head several times.  _ His _ head. Because Stiles  _ was _ the bird. 

Stiles was stuck inside the body of a raven. 

“Stiles, is that really you?” 

Another nod. 

“Are you stuck inside the raven?” 

A head tilt, a wing flap… the bird version of a shrug. 

“Have you tried to get out?” 

A shake of the head. 

“Do you have an idea how to get out?” 

Another shake. 

“Okay… okay,” Derek ran a hand over his head, “alright, I’m going to take you back. Maybe, if I put you on top of your body, you can… figure it out.” He moved to pick him up, but Stiles squawked and jumped away. 

Derek sighed, “Stiles, you need to get back into your body. We don’t know what this is or… how long you can live like this. Your body is going to waste away without you inside of it.” 

Stiles squawked again and Derek leaned back, “fine, do you want me to tell Lydia about this? She can research it, see if we can all figure this out together.” 

Stiles shook his head. Derek missed his rambling voice, it was a lot harder to talk to him like this. 

“Stiles, come on, can we at least try to get you into your body? If it doesn’t work, I’ll bring you home and we can…. Watch Star Wars together. How does that sound?” 

Stiles hopped around, like he was thinking about it, and then he ruffled his wings a bit. Derek had no idea what that meant. 

Derek decided to switch tactics. 

“Stiles, your dad really needs you to wake up.” Stiles looked away at that, and Derek felt bad about guilting him into this. “We all need you. You’re the glue that got us all finally working together…” Derek hesitated, “ _ I _ need you, Stiles. Please just try.” 

Stiles didn’t move for a while, and then he fluttered over to Derek and landed on his knee, poking at his leg through his jeans. 

The same leg that had a shattered knee and a broken femur in Stiles body. 

Stiles was scared. 

Scared to go back into his body, that had been beaten and broken. 

Scared to feel that pain again. 

Gently, as gently as he could manage, Derek ran his hand down Stiles feathered back. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared,” Stiles ruffled his feathers at that, but Derek just kept petting him, “you’re not going to be alone though. Ever again. The hunters who hurt you are dead, they can’t come back… and the pain that you felt before you went into this bird, it’s not the same anymore. You’re in a hospital, full of pain meds, and surrounded by werewolves. We aren’t going to let you suffer, okay? I promise.” 

Derek kept gently petting Stiles back, before finally the bird looked up at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” Derek smiled down at him, “let’s go.”

\-- 

Derek smuggled Stiles in to the hospital like he always did, hidden in the folds of his leather jacket. Stiles was going to miss the warmth of being tucked gently against an alpha werewolf’s chest. 

He supposed he could try it as a human, but it probably wouldn’t be the same. 

When they got into the hospital room, his dad was the only one sitting by his bed. Peter was here too, but he was sitting in the corner, reading a book. No one else was in the room. 

As good a time as any to try out some magical shit. 

Derek didn’t waste any time dropping Stiles down on his body. Way to be subtle about it, Der bear. 

“Derek, what the hell are you doing?” Dad demanded, but Peter was suddenly there, holding his dad back before he could grab Featherwind off of Stiles body. 

“It’s okay,” Derek said, “he should wake up now.” 

Right. It was go time. Except, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how to do the… go part. He hopped up his body’s chest, and then looked at his own slack face. There was a breathing tube under his nose, but otherwise it could look like he was asleep. Which was kind of creepy, actually, he’d never stared at himself when he was asleep. 

_ How do I get back in?  _

_ The same way you got out, _ Featherwind said. Because she was helpful like that. 

She did have a point though. Last time he had just kind of.. Opened his mouth and it had happened. He took a few more hops closer, opened Featherwind’s mouth and - he was flying again, floating, being pulled in and then - 

Stiles opened his eyes, his real eyes this time, and immediately shut them again when everything was too bright. 

Something squeezed his hand. Someone told him it was okay, the lights were off now. Someone else touched his face. 

Stiles blinked his eyes open, the blurry faces of his dad and Derek coming into view. 

“Hey,” he croaked out, and then regretted it. His mouth felt like sandpaper. He shut his eyes again, not knowing what to do about everything swirling together. He knew he hadn’t actually been in a coma, remembered what had happened when he was in Featherwind’s mind, but he also felt like he was  _ waking up from a coma _ . He was disoriented and confused. 

“Here,” someone whispered, a straw pressed against his lips. Stiles took a few sips. He felt better after that. He opened his eyes again to find his dad sitting on the side of his bed. 

“Hey kiddo,” his dad smiled at him, brushing a hand over his forehead, “you had us really worried there.” 

“Hey, Dad.” 

“I’m going to go get his doctor,” Peter said, already leaving the room. His dad just kept staring down at him, like he was amazed that Stiles was awake at all. 

Featherwind let out a caw of annoyance when it went on for too long. 

_ If you are going to be sleeping here now, tell the big wolf I would like to continue sleeping at his place. It is much more comfortable there than it is here.  _

Stiles let out a laugh, turning to see Derek was still standing beside him, looking down at Stiles with a slight smile on his face. Which, you know, for Derek, was practically him looking overjoyed right now. Featherwind was back on his shoulder. 

“Featherwind wants to go back to your place,” Stiles said, grinning up at him, “she likes it there.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, “fine. But you’re the one looking after her when you get out of here. I don’t want a pet bird.” 

Stiles laughed, “deal.” 

His dad looked between them, clearly confused. “Who the hell is Featherwind?” 

“The raven, dad,” Stiles turned to grin at the bird, and knew that she was grinning back. “She saved my life.” 

\-- 

The explanation for his dad didn’t get very far before the doctors came in and took over all of Stiles attention with tests. 

Stiles tried to follow along, tried to understand what the tests were for, and what the outcomes meant, but he was having a hard time. He kept losing track of what people were saying, and getting confused even if he heard all the words. 

Also, everything was kind of blurry, and his head was killing him. 

“Hey Derek,” Stiles turned to the man standing out of the way of the doctors in the room, “what happened to the promise of the pain drainage man? My head is pounding over here.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, and it was only then that Stiles realized that yes, he probably shouldn’t have said that in front of three very human doctors and nurses. 

Luckily, they seemed unfazed. “Stiles, are you in pain?” 

Stiles lifted his hand to his head, feeling the bandage wrapped around it there, “my head…” 

The nurse stepped forward immediately, and started adjusting whatever was hooked up to his IV. 

“Woah,” Stiles managed to get out, and then promptly passed out. 

\-- 

When Stiles woke up again, the lights were dimmed and it was dark outside. He had no idea what that meant, since he didn’t remember if it was light or dark outside last time he woke up. 

“Hey,” someone whispered beside him, “you okay?” 

“Hmm?” Stiles turned to find Derek sitting beside him, “oh hey, where’s m’dad?” 

“Peter took him down to grab some dinner. He’ll be back soon.” 

“Oh.” Stiles looked around again, squinting. “Is everything normally blurry? Is that… did the world get blurry?” 

“... No.” Derek hit a button on the side of Stiles bed, and Stiles groaned. 

“I don’t want to talk to doctors!” 

“Stiles, you have a brain injury. You’re speech is slurred and you can’t see properly. You need to talk to the doctors.”

Stiles frowned, “wha- m’fiine.” 

But then the doctors were there again, asking their questions, flashing their little flashlights, and pulling Stiles out of the room to do brain scans. 

Stiles decided he really didn’t like brain injuries. 

\-- 

They gave Stiles glasses. They made the world less blurry, and they helped with constant headache he had. That didn’t mean he liked them though. 

In fact, he kind of hated them. They were a giant reminder that he wasn’t ever going to be his normal self again. 

“I think you should bite me,” Stiles declared, three days after he woke up. He was feeling better than he had the first day, able to stay awake longer, and string full sentences together without slurring, but he still wasn’t back to normal. 

He had glasses, and headaches, and mood swings and a giant cast on his leg… he wasn’t normal. 

He just wanted everything to go back to normal. 

Derek, Peter and his dad all exchanged a look. Which was something Stiles was getting used to. Stiles wasn’t allowed many visitors, really only immediate family was allowed in at this point. He had no idea how Derek and Peter had managed to be counted as immediate family, but Stiles didn’t care. It meant he got to have a wolf nearby whenever he needed the pain drain. It meant he wasn’t alone if his dad had to leave, so he didn’t have to worry about the hunters… or the nightmares. 

It meant he actually felt like he had a family, and wasn’t just alone with his dad. 

“We’re not sure that he can,” Peter finally broke the silence, putting his book aside. “Stiles, I’m not sure you fully understand what you did.” 

“What I did?” Stiles scoffed, “I was kidnapped by hunters, the mountain ash has to be out of my system by now, what’s the big deal?” 

“You bonded with a raven,” Peter motioned to Featherwind, who was napping on Derek’s lap, “you astral projected out of your body for a number of days. That’s very intense magic.” 

Stiles didn’t like where this was going. “So?” 

“So,” Peter glanced at his dad, but his dad didn’t jump in to take over. His dad probably didn’t get it either. “We think you might be a mage.” 

“Okay…” Stiles thought that over, it sounded kind of cool, actually, but mages couldn’t heal themselves. Or if they couldn’t, Stiles didn’t know how to do it. “Can’t I just be bitten and… be a werewolf instead?” 

“Well, we could try, but it may end up killing you.” 

“What?” 

“Magic users aren’t meant to be werewolves,” Derek said, “if I gave you the bite, you might become a werewolf. Or, you wouldn’t feel a difference, like Lydia, or worse case, your body would reject it and you would die.” 

Stiles thought that over. He hadn’t really thought about what he had done with Featherwind. It hadn’t felt like magic. It had just… happened. He hadn’t done anything since, that was all that magical. So… maybe it was a fluke. 

“Two out of three of those don’t sound too bad,” Stiles said eventually. 

His dad sighed, “its a ⅓ chance you might die. I don’t like those odds.” 

“Well, I don’t like  _ this _ !” Stiles snapped, anger bubbling inside him, “I don’t like being stuck in a hospital for weeks! I don’t like knowing I’m going to have a limp for the rest of my life- and- and-  _ fucking- _ ” he couldn’t finish his sentence, words lost to him, and that was more frustrating than anything else. Stiles grabbed the side table that they served his food on and shoved it over, feeling very little satisfaction when it fell to the floor. 

His dad and Derek were on either side of him a second later. His dad squeezing his shoulder, Derek just kind of standing there like a weirdo… though Stiles had to admit, it did make him feel better. 

“Sorry,” he said, slumping into his pillow, “I didn’t mean to… do that.” Now that he’d calmed down, he felt his face flush in embarrassment for his outburst. 

But this was exactly what he was talking about. He didn’t feel like  _ himself _ anymore. 

“It’s okay, kiddo, we understand,” his dad said, sitting down beside him. “Give it time, you’ve only been awake for a few days and you’re already doing much better than you were when you first woke up.” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispered, hating that now that the anger was gone, sadness was taking over. He brushed the tears away quickly, he didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. 

This was all embarrassing enough. 

“In a few weeks, if you’re still feeling this way… we can talk about it,” Derek said. It felt like an olive branch, and Stiles appreciated it. He grinned at the alpha before nodding. 

“Okay.” 

\-- 

It was still another week before the doctors deemed him well enough to transfer back to Beacon Hills. They had to load him up into the back of an ambulance for the four hour drive, but it wasn’t too bad. His dad was with him the whole time. And by the end of it, he was home. 

Well, homeish. He was in a familiar hospital, at least. 

The return to Beacon Hills was bittersweet. Stiles was close enough, and well enough now that he could get other visitors. The betas came on the first day, all of them giving him a hug, or squeezing his shoulder. His dad’s deputies also came in, bringing get well cards, and a  _ giant _ teddy bear. Each group was only allowed to stay for a few minutes, but it was nice to see some different faces. 

Being back in Beacon Hills, though, also meant his dad had to go back to work. He’d had almost a month off now, and he was the sheriff of the county. Even if Stiles didn’t like it, he understood. 

At least Derek and Peter didn’t have jobs they had to go back to. 

Although… Peter did start to mysteriously disappear a lot, now that they were here. 

But he had Derek. 

And Featherwind. 

Derek was keeping up with the promise he had made, Stiles was never alone. 

—

“Good.” 

“Not good,” Stiles panted, dropping his hands, “that was pathetic.” 

Derek raised a brow, dropping his own hands, “you just started physical therapy yesterday, Stiles, and you’re already doing better. Not pathetic.” 

Stiles groaned. All he’d been doing was pushing against Derek’s hands for the past 5 minutes, but he was exhausted already. Stupid brain injury. Stupid muscles not knowing how to do shit anymore. Stupid weak human not being able to- 

“Hey,” Derek grabbed his arm, in something that was quickly becoming a reassuring grasp. “You’re doing great. It’s only been a few weeks.” 

Stiles made a face, “a few weeks ago I won our lacrosse game, now I don’t think I’ll even be able to properly hold the stick!”

Derek tilted his head, “to be fair, I don’t think you could properly holding the stick a few weeks ago either.” 

Stiles wacked his chest, but it was too late, a smile was on his face, “ass.” 

Derek grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze before he let go. “You’re going to be able to hold that stick again, Stiles, its okay.” 

Stiles slumped against his pillow. “But I’m not going to be able to play ever again. Even if I get my hands back to shape, my leg is still fucked up.” 

They both turned to look down at Stiles leg, which was still in its cast and due for surgery in a few days. 

Derek nodded, “you might be right, but will it matter?”

Stiles frowned ,”what?” 

“Stiles, before all this, you complained about lacrosse more than anything else, do you even like it?” 

Stiles squirmed, “yeah.” 

Derek’s brow went up, “lie.” 

“Well, everyone else does! I liked being part of the team!” 

“You can still go watch, just sit with Lydia and Erica.” 

Stiles thought about that… he had a point. Then he grinned, “will you come sit with us? Not sit in the shadows and stalk us like a giant creeper?” 

Derek huffed, but his lip twitched up, “I make no promises.” 

Stiles, for the first time it what felt like forever, laughed. 

\-- 

Derek didn’t mind being in the hospital with Stiles. He came in the morning, stayed through the day, and left when the sheriff got off work at night. Sometimes he even stayed through that visit too. He couldn’t help it, a pack member was weak, and the alpha in him couldn’t bring himself to leave. 

He had other pack members though, so he had to leave sometimes. 

At least three nights a week, the betas came to his place for updates. Erica, Boyd, Lydia, Jackson, and, more often than not, Isaac, piled in to talk and watch movies until they had to go home to their parents. 

Featherwind enjoyed getting to know all of them. She liked Erica in particular, and often curled up under her hair to sleep when she was there. 

On the weekend the sheriff had more time off, so Derek planned training for every Sunday afternoon. The betas needed to learn, and it was good bonding time for all of them. 

And it helped them all with their anxiety. If something like this ever happened again, they would be ready. 

They could fight. 

\--

Stiles had been back in Beacon Hills for two weeks before Scott showed up. Derek wasn’t sure where he had been, in that time. He knew from Peter that the Argents had left town soon after… the  _ incident _ . And Scott’s mother had come in to visit Stiles multiple times. 

But Scott hasn’t come, until now, nervously knocking on Stiles hospital door. 

Stiles didn’t say anything to him, he just turned his head away. Scott turned to look at Derek instead. 

Derek, unfortunately, had no idea what Siles wanted him to do in this situation. 

“What do you want?” He settled on asking. Stiles snorted beside him. 

“I…” Scott stepped into the room, but didn’t move any closer when Derek flashed his eyes. “I just… I’m really sorry, Stiles. I’m so sorry that this happened to you. And that it was because of something I did. I really, I didn’t think he would… I’m just sorry.” 

Stiles didn’t turn to look at him, and after a minute of silence, Scott bit his lip and left. Derek, despite really not wanting to, got up and went after him. Because he was the Alpha here, and he said he would do better. 

Even if it was for Scott. 

“Wait,” Derek said, closing the door behind him so Stiles wouldn’t be able to hear. Scott paused in the hallway, looking back at Derek warily. “It’s not… well, it is you, but it’s not just you. Ever since… he has mood swings. Bad days. It’s… complicated. But it was good of you to come and apologize. You should try again some other day, he might talk to you then.” 

Scott shifted awkwardly on his feet, his face downcast, “yeah, my mom mentioned that he had, like, brain damage now. I didn’t know how to face him knowing that  _ I’m _ the reason my best friend has  _ brain _ damage. I don’t blame him for hating me.” 

Derek frowned, “that’s not the reason he’s mad at you.” 

Scott glanced up, surprised, “wait… then why is he mad?” 

“He’s mad because he found out that you didn’t help us look for him. He’s mad because he found out you cared more about finding  _ Allison _ , and volunteered to stay with Allison, instead of trying to help him. He’s mad because if he was really your best friend, you would have made him a  _ priority _ when he needed you the most.” 

“Oh. Okay, yeah, I get that,” Scott looked down again. “I’ve been an idiot, about all of this. Stiles has a right to be mad about it. I’ll, uh, apologize for all that too. Next time.” 

Derek grunted, he hadn’t been expecting that. 

“I, um, owe you an apology too, Derek,” Scott continue, and now Derek was  _ really _ surprised, “ever since all of this,” Scott waved a hand at his own face, “started, I kind of went into denial about it. I didn’t want to be… different. I didn’t take it seriously, despite what you and Stiles kept telling me. I thought I could just like, get through it one day at a time, and then I would be able to be normal again or… I don’t even know. I wasn’t thinking,” Scott let out a breath. “But Stiles almost  _ died _ , and he’s really hurt, and I… it was because of something I did. And I had no idea that anything  _ I _ did could have life and death consequences, you know?” 

Not really, but Derek nodded along anyway. 

“I’m sorry, Derek, for not listening to you. I’m going to take everything seriously from now on. I swear.” 

Derek looked Scott up and down, and then he nodded. 

“The pack has training every Sunday by the Hale house. You can come if you want.” 

“Really?” 

“If you can take it seriously.” 

“I will,” Scott nodded, “I promise.” 

“Then you can come.” 

Scott reached out and shook Derek’s hand at that, a move that made him realize that he and Stiles really  _ had _ grown up together, before he promised to see him Sunday and he left. 

Derek didn’t know if Stiles would ever forgive him but… Derek thought Scott could at least grow up to be a decent werewolf. 

\--

As the weeks went by, and Stiles got stronger, visitors were allowed to stay for longer periods of time. Derek was glad for it, to have all of his pack under one roof. 

He should have known it wouldn’t end well for him. 

“Okay, wait wait wait,” Erica held up her hands, and Derek rolled his eyes. “So Derek, our lovely Alpha Derek Hale, is the one who has been holding your hand while you slowly walk down the hallway every day? Is this what you’re telling us?” 

“Well I mean, I have a walker,” Stiles looked between Derek and the betas, his face scrunched in confusion, “so he’s not holding my hand… he did catch me when I started to fall today though.” 

“Oh my GOD.” Erica covered her mouth with her hand, and Stiles brows scrunched down even further. Then she turned to Lydia, “you were right.” 

Lydia grinned, “I know.” 

Derek didn’t want to know. He really didn’t. 

Too bad for him though. 

“Right about what?” Peter asked. 

Erica snickered, “they’re in  _ love _ .” 

Stiles face went beet red, but Derek made sure he didn’t react at all. 

“I didn’t say love,” Lydia clarified, “but they definitely like each other.” 

“Derek’s not even denying it,” Boyd said. 

“Neither is Stiles,” Isaac chimed in. 

They were the worst. Derek hated them all. By the way Stiles was sinking into his bed slowly, a glare on his face, he agreed with him. 

“Isn’t he a little young for you, Derek?” Jackson asked, Derek cringed when he turned to the sheriff. “Don’t you have a problem with this?” 

Sheriff Stilinski shrugged, “I don’t mind that Stiles has someone here for him, as long as it’s what Stiles wants. I would prefer they waited two months before they did anything, so Stiles could at least be 17 and out of the hospital, but no, I don’t have a problem with it.” 

All of the betas looked surprised by this, and Derek felt kind of offended. Sure the sheriff had arrested him that one time, but they’d moved past it. He couldn’t be the worst person for Stiles to be with… could he? 

“What?” He finally asked, when no one said anything. 

“Sorry,” Erica said, “I’m just… surprised the sheriff doesn’t mind his son dating, like, a 28 year old.” 

Stiles burst out laughing as Derek’s eyebrows rose up his head. “A what?” Stiles asked through his laughter, “you think Derek’s 28?”

“I mean, he’s in his mid-twenties? Right?” Isaac said. 

Peter shook his head. “Derek won’t be 20 for another 8 months.” 

“Two years and change doesn’t seem too big of an age difference to me,” the sheriff said, grinning at all of their stunned faces. 

Boyd rubbed a hand over his face, “Derek is only 19? Are you seriously only a year older than me, man?” 

Derek, confused by the reaction, shrugged. Everyone started laughing after that. “Why did you spend so much time with me if you thought I was almost 30?” He asked. 

“Cause you’re like, our older brother,” Erica said, “although I guess not as much older as we thought.” 

“You knew?” Lydia asked Stiles. 

Stiles grinned, “I stole his ID once. Though to be fair, I thought it might be fake at first, until it was obvious he was just as much of a dumbass as all us teenagers.” 

“Oh my god, Derek!” Erica snapped at him, “you’re not allowed to groan ‘teenagers’ at us ever again! Last I checked nine _ teen  _ was still a  _ teenager _ !” 

Derek sighed. At least they’d moved on from his relationship with Stiles. 

—

After the betas had left, Peter offered to walk Sheriff Stilinski to his nightshift, and the sheriff had surprisingly accepted. 

Derek and Stiles were left alone once more, Derek in his usual chair at the head of Stiles bed. Featherwind perched by the window, oblivious to their awkward tension. 

“Sorry for,” Derek motioned to all the chairs still circling Stiles bed, “what they said.” 

Stiles snorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize before.” 

“I know,” Derek looked down at his hands, “but I’ve been trying to be better. A better Alpha. And I-” 

“Dude,” Stiles hand was on his, squeezing his fingers reassuringly, “you have nothing to apologize to me for. You saved my life, and have spent every boring day in the hospital with me since, helping me every step of the way. Those guys were just being jerks,” he shrugged, “either they don’t understand the awesome bromance we’ve formed, or you really  _ do _ have a crush on me and they’re even bigger jerks than I thought for making fun of it. Cause I would definitely not have a problem if you had a crush on me, cause, like, hello, it’s  _ you _ . And if  _ you _ for some reason liked  _ my broken bi ass _ , I would be  _ all _ over that-” 

Derek leaned forward and tried to shut Stiles up with a kiss, but he missed. He kissed the side of his mouth, mostly his cheek, but Stiles got the point. 

When Derek leaned back, Stiles was grinning at him. 

“You’re not broken,” Derek said, “and… I wasn’t going to say anything until you were at least out of the hospital.” 

Stiles sighed dramatically, but he was still smiling, “that could be forever from now.” 

Derek shrugged, “you’re worth waiting for.” 

\--

Stiles was getting stronger every day, and with the pack coming by, and Derek by his side, his spirits were quickly rising too. 

But that didn’t mean he was healed. 

And it didn’t mean everything was going to go back to normal any time soon… if at all. 

Stiles mood swings were unpredictable, and his cognitive abilities were hard to navigate. Sometimes he seemed perfectly fine, and other times it was like he couldn’t talk at all. Derek knew he was having a hard time reading too, though Stiles hadn’t said anything yet. 

School, for now at least, was definitely out the window.

Derek just had to find a way to tell everyone else that. 

“Stiles, don’t be difficult,” Lydia said, shoving a notebook back into Stiles hands, “if you don’t let me explain, you’re never going to catch up-” Stiles grabbed the book, and threw it across the room. 

“I said I don’t want to do this right now!” 

Silence filled the room as Lydia backed away from the bed.

“Alright my little betas,” Peter cut in, gathering up the books Lydia had brought to set them aside, “I think that’s enough for one day. Playdates over.” 

“I’m not a fucking child!” Stiles snarled, picking up another book and throwing it at Peter’s head. Peter grabbed it out of the air easily, but Derek stepped forward to grab Stiles arm after that. 

He didn’t want Stiles hurting  _ himself _ trying to throw textbooks around. 

The betas left the room as Peter and Derek gave Stiles a minute to get himself under control. 

A minute went by though, and Stiles still looked pissed. 

“You’re right,” Peter said, “that was a bad choice of words. I apologize.” 

Stiles pulled his arm out of Derek’s grip to cross his arms over his chest, pouting. Derek sank back into his normal chair, and Peter sat down in his regular corner, a book in his hand. The three of them sat like that until Sheriff Stilinski arrived, frowning when no one said anything as he entered the room. 

“Everything okay in here?” 

“Everythings fine,” Stiles mumbled. 

Derek cleared his throat, leaning forward, “Stiles, we need to tell them.” 

The sheriff looked between Stiles and Derek, before finally turning to Peter. Peter shrugged. Derek sighed when Stiles didn’t say anything. 

“You need to tell them so this stops happening. Lydia is only trying to help you, but no one can help you the way you need if you don’t  _ tell _ anyone what the actual problem is.” 

Stiles glared at him, “how do  _ you _ know what the problem is. Maybe I just have mood swings because I’m crazy now. TBI’s make people crazy, don’t you know that?” 

“ _ Stiles _ .” 

Stiles grumbled, but he did sit up when Derek grabbed a book, and pulled it between them. He flipped it open to a random page, and pointed to a sentence. 

“Can you read that to me?” 

Stiles looked at the sentence, then up at Derek. Derek knew the answer before Stiles shook his head. 

“Oh, buddy,” Stiles dad was there in an instant, wrapping his arm around Stiles shoulders. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Stiles shrugged. They all ignored the tear that ran down his cheek. “It’s not all the time but… when there’s a lot of people around or… a lot of noise, I don’t know, the words get jumbled. It’s stupid. I’m stupid now.” 

“You’re  _ not _ stupid,” Derek growled. 

“The doctors explained this might be an issue,” the sheriff said, rubbing his hand down Stiles back. “I’ll talk to them, we’ll figure this out.” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispered, his head cushioned on his dad’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time, Stiles curled against the Sheriff with his hand intertwined with Derek’s. Peter sat in the corner, no doubt texting the pack this update. 

Lydia came back the next day, alone, with much simpler books tucked under her arm. Stiles flushed in shame at having to go back to reading middle school books, but Lydia was patient. And half an hour later, as she helped Stiles move on to a slightly more difficult book, Stiles initial shame forgotten and a proud grin on his lips, Derek couldn’t help but smile. 

He had a pretty great pack. 

\--

After a month in the Beacon Hills hospital, Stiles was finally able to go home. 

Sheriff Stilinski had switched rooms entirely with his son, with the help of Peter, so Stiles no longer had to worry about stairs. Stiles didn’t even make it that far though. He napped on the couch as soon as they got inside. 

“Well, I’m very glad we spent the past two days on this surprise,” Peter said, staring down at Stiles sleeping form. 

“He’ll appreciate it when he wakes up,” the sheriff said, watching his son fondly. 

Featherwind let out a caw, and flew around her new house. 

Derek hoped she liked it. Though he supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, if she decided to stay at his place instead. 

He was getting used to having the ball of feathers around. 

—

Stiles hummed happily as he stretched out on his own bed. His head pillowed by his  _ own _ pillow. He opened his eyes and saw that it was just past 10 in the morning. He’d gotten to sleep, fully and on his own, without any nurses or hospital staff coming in to wake him up. It had been over a week, and he still wasn’t used to it. 

Life at home was bliss. 

Rolling to the side of the bed, Stiles grabbed his walker and pushed himself to standing. He still had a long road ahead of him until he was fit enough to walk with a cane, but he was home, and walking. It was good enough for him at the moment. 

Featherwind wasn’t in her little blanket fort Stiles had made for her, so Stiles guessed what that meant. By the time he’d used the washroom and pulled sweatpants on, he could smell the bacon wafting down the hallway. 

Yep, Derek was here already, and he was making Stiles favorite. 

It was probably  _ way _ too soon to say it, but Stiles really loved his boyfriend. 

Progress was slow, but Stiles made it down the hall and into the kitchen all on his own. Derek was sitting at the table, breakfast already served, when he got in. A proud smile on his face. 

“Ta da!” Stiles said as he sat down, “two days in a row without needing help. Progress.” 

“Congratulations,” Derek said, leaning forward to peck Stiles on the lips before they both turned to the food. They hadn’t gotten very far past small, quick, kisses, but that was okay. Stiles was happy with what they had now.

“Any plans for the day?” Stiles asked. 

Derek shrugged, “I thought we could go visit Peter on site, apparently the foundation is in now.” 

“I can’t believe he secretly started building a new pack house without telling you. That man is kind of obsessed with surprises.” 

Derek just shrugged again, “it’s Peter.” 

He had a good point. Who understood anything about that guy?

_ Your father and Peter get along well. He probably understands Peter.  _ Featherwind said, plopping down onto the table beside him. 

Stiles glared at the bird, “my dad and Derek’s uncle is something I prefer not to think about, thanks.” 

Featherwind blinked at him, then she looked at his plate.  _ Bacon?  _

Stiles rolled his eyes, before tossing her a piece. 

“Can birds get fat?” He asked, turning back to Derek. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” 

Stiles grinned. 

“The packs coming over tonight,” Derek said, looking down at his phone. “Erica and Isaac are making lasagna.” 

“Nice.” 

\--

Stiles felt a bit unsteady, but the cane held. It helped that Derek was holding his hand the whole time, a sturdy and strong rock beside him. 

Stiles leaned his head back and felt the sun on his face, sucking in a breath of fresh air. It was nice to be able to go for a walk, just the two of them, on a sunny summer day. 

  
Featherwind swooped past as she chased after something in the field beside them. 

“Thanks for being my walking buddy,” Stiles said, turning to his boyfriend, “I’m still getting used to the cane.” 

Derek squeezed his hand reassuringly, “it’s fine. We’re in this together.” 

Stiles smiled, he knew that.

With Derek around, he wasn’t ever alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments :) 
> 
> This fic didn't go exactly as I expected, but I'm happy with how it ended. 
> 
> If you like my fics,[come say hi on tumblr!](http://happyjuicyfruit.tumblr.com/)


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